Vulcan I Human You
by librawriter
Summary: Just one of the many stories about how these two came to be.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Not really following rules here, just seeing what happens. Nitpicking, scathing or belittling reviews will be promptly deleted. You are welcome to leave reviews otherwise. _

_My main goal for this story is to try and build a solid romance between Nyota and Spock without throwing in too much sex right away, if at all. It's a challenge I give to myself. I'll try to update regularly but as a warning, I'm writing this one chapter at a time. _

_Disclaimer: Not being paid for this. I do it because it's fun and I love to write. _

_Enjoy yall! _

**Vulcan I, Human You**

Chapter 1

When T'Pring ends their engagement, it catches Spock completely off guard. He long suspected that she was taken up with someone other than himself, but in his rational mind, she would choose honor and loyalty to _him_, the one her parents arranged for her since childhood.

He's ashamed at the way he ends up begging her not to leave him, ashamed of the promises that tumble from his mouth as she sits stiffly, unchanging, her beautiful hand limp in his grasp.

"Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?" he croaks, blinking back tears his eyes have not seen since he was a boy. His throat tightens once more as he searches her empty, violet eyes. She turns her cheek coldly as he tries to kiss her, feebly, and finally, she removes herself completely from his attempted embrace.

She stands, brushing her robes off, as if he has soiled her with his touch. "There is not. I have chosen another and he has chosen me," she says.

"But…why…how _could_ you?" Spock moans, standing too, thinking of what his father will say, what his grandmother will say. The shame he will bring to his family! The shame he brings even now, as his human side erupts, and his eyes spill over. He swallows, trying again. "What if I promised to return to Vulcan, and stay? Would you have me then?"

"Come to Vulcan, Spock, or stay on Earth. There is nothing you could ever do to make me love you. I simply do not, and will not. Ever," she tells him plainly. She places a sympathetic hand on his trembling shoulder. "Go well, Spock. I wish you happiness and long life."

His shuttle back to Starfleet is just a blur of shame, anger and more tears that humiliate him further.

_She was to be my wife. I loved her. How could she love another? _

Spock was so proud to call T'Pring his; he was the envy of all Vulcans his age with her on his arm—wise, honorable, from a noble blood line, naturally beautiful. And now, belonging to a male that was not him. They had never mated, but how he had imagined what it might have felt like, to bury himself in her body. It would have been magical, passionate, thrilling, all he'd ever dreamed! He'd been so certain of it! Spock thinks back to the messages she sent him, writing how she missed him and wanted him to return to Vulcan, how she thought of him during her nights alone on her silk sheets, how she had begun looking for wedding robes. Lies. All had been _lies_. He could not trust females— they were deceitful. The more beautiful, the more they betrayed.

He's too distraught to even eat upon returning to Starfleet Academy, so he chooses to meditate instead. He tries to meditate all his pain away.

At least Spock has his studies during the day to keep him distracted. He's a Second Year at Starfleet Academy, currently the valedictorian with none of his classmates even coming in a close second. The female acquaintances flirt with him aggressively once he announces his broken engagement, as logically a Vulcan would do when asked. _Why should I refuse the offer_, he thinks as he gives in to the sex the Earth women seem so willing to give. It is physically enjoyable to him, for the time he spends shoving his well-endowed cock into them while they lay panting beneath him, but afterwards, he feels just as empty as before. His bond mate is gone. He is certain he is the only Vulcan alone at his age (twenty one in Earth years), and the thought humiliates him. Vulcans were never lonely for a mate. All Vulcans were betrothed by seven years of age, and Spock has no one to call his own, not today, not tomorrow. It is unacceptable, another thing that shamefully sets him apart from who he has tried so hard to be.

Spock commits to none of the women he has intercourse with, no matter what they cook, wear or how many times they take him into their mouths and swallow his steady stream of Vulcan seed. Why commit when none would make a likely wife of a Vulcan? Why bother with it when his father would set his lips in that firm, disapproving line, giving his answer without words? His heart is broken. He cannot bear the thought of loving again, nor will he even make an attempt to try. It is illogical. The women surrounding him at Starfleet are curious about him and his manhood, so he has sex with them, analyzes the experience, and continues on with his studies until another begins her aggressive pursuit.

Occasionally, his sex partners overlap. Twice, he is struck about the face by an enraged female.

"You used me! You liar! Jerk!" they scream at him and stomp off in fury. The slaps don't hurt him, merely leave him confused as to why they allowed themselves to think there was anything more going on except the physical mating. He had promised them nothing. Yet, Earth females did not seem to care about promises. They never applied logic to sexual encounters. They giggled and twirled hair about their fingers and kissed him with their tongue in his mouth. They wanted what was between his legs. There was talk, after a few partners, of how he almost seemed to "read minds" when it came to sex. Well, of course he could read their minds. He was telepathic. Yet he supposed to most, he was just another strange species earning his credentials at the competitive Starfleet Academy. He was a conquest. In a way, he felt just as used as they claimed of him.

He grew bored of mating recklessly. His life went on.

Spock graduates, is declared Commander and named as First Officer under the direction of Captain Christopher Pike, a good man as well as brilliant strategist. "They still have three years, maybe four to go before they complete the newest ship. The _Enterprise_, they're thinking of calling it. I've seen the bluprint, and wow, is she a beauty. While you wait, I can get you a teaching position right here at Starfleet, if you want. You'd be paid well and they could really use someone with your brains. Dr. Clarice just retired—"

"The Phonology instructor?" Spock asks. He enjoys its subject matter very much.

Captain Pike nods. "Yes. Starfleet's short staffed in that department. It's a sonofabitch finding a solid teacher, so I know they'd love to have you. We also need a couple new programs for those students who want to become Captain. A test, of sorts. One that'll be a challenge," Captain Pike tells him.

Spock certainly has no desire to return to Vulcan, so he agrees, his life quickly becoming consumed with classes, new cadets to discipline and developing a nearly impossible examination for candidates searching Captain. He names it the Kobayashi Maru, or "impossible to solve". Such is life, he decides as he makes the program more complex with every adjustment and update. One could never truly figure life out. One could never truly solve the complex notion of love. Uncontrollable, undefinable, unable to be forced.

_There is nothing you can do to make me love you, not ever._

Her words still burn inside of him, all this time later. It is illogical, he knows. Spock tries not to think of his former bride to be, or how happy she probably is while he lays alone in his bed at night and dreams of nothing.

He meets the one who would change his life forever on an ordinary day, when she comes by his office at an agreed upon meeting after a brief exchange of emails regarding her credits.

"I can speak Klingon, Romulan and Orion fluently. I'd like to add two more electives, but that would require special permission. I've exempted out of everything in my department, but I saw in the instructor profiles that you are native to Vulcan. If you are teaching any courses in Vulcan—"

"I am not," he interrupts.

He would be a blind fool to miss her beautiful dark eyes, staring at him with such confidence and determination. She blinks them and for a moment, his heart stands still in his side. "What about Advanced Romulan?" she presses.

"I am a science teacher, not a foreign language instructor. You are welcome to speak with Dr. Andrews for those courses you are so adamant about taking," he says, meaning to end her presence in his office because he would almost say he is having trouble breathing suddenly, and it bothers him.

"I already did. She told me to come to you, Sir," she says. Her hair is long and black, but she's wearing it in one neat Dutch braid, which she flings over her shoulder in a way he finds sensual for no logical reason. How would it look free, flowing over her slender shoulders? She has long, shapely legs and a slender waist. He notices it all. A strange feeling stirs within. He is having trouble giving it a name. Desire, perhaps? Concupiscence? It surprises him. He has not been sexually active for over four years. Spock rationalizes that it is because of this reason he is having trouble concentrating on her words.

"Sir?"

_No._ He is a Commander in Starfleet now, not a hormonally charged adolescent. Those days are long far gone. He meditates through sexual urges these days. He does not masturbate because it is unnecessary. His past ways were shameful, and he wishes he could erase them. This girl _must_ leave his office, the sooner the better.

Spock stands, straightening his uniform. "Please remind me again of your name?"

"Cadet Uhura, Sir. Nyota Uhura."

"What is your classification, Cadet?"

"Second Year Xenolinguistics major, Sir. I hope to make rank on the Enterprise. She'll be ready to go by the end of this semester, so I've heard—"

"So you've _heard_. If you truly wish to know something, you must observe or experience it in person. Claiming to know on the basis of 'hearsay', is a sure way to become quickly ill-advised, particularly to those who know the truth," he states, hoping to irritate or offend her enough to make her leave.

She nods in agreement, to his surprise, though he does not show it. "Absolutely. You're right. I would love to see the progress of the Enterprise in person, but even first in class cadets aren't granted that privilege. Unless, of course, they can prove that they have something of value to offer to the overall design of the ship."

"And you are claiming not only to be first in your class, but also to have a valuable modification to add to the new star ship, are you not?"

"I am first in my class." She fidgets. "And...actually, I _have_ been working on a communications tool. It's just the prototype, and I'm sure the mechanics need work. It's the computer programming aspect that's got me a little confused, but I-I'm sure I could present my model to the board once I figure out how to make it reliable enough for Starfleet officers to use on missions." She pulls her PADD open, logs on. Her blush indicates her pride in her work, as her fingers glide over her device excitedly. "I've got the basic designs here, along with a few pictures. The actual device is back in my room."

She stands closer to him, and as they huddle over her PADD, he flips through screen after screen of her work, inhaling her scent of amber with every breath he takes. Her prototype for tracking sound waves in space is nothing less than miraculous. He can see where she has made some errors, but nothing he could not perfect himself.

"Fascinating," he murmurs after he comes to the last visual on her PADD.

"It took me a year," she says proudly. "Do you think...do you think it could actually be effective?"

"There are flaws," Spock murmurs as he reaches for her PADD again, flipping back a few screens. He tilts it to show her. "The design is large to be placed beside a console. You could use more advanced methods for the transmitter itself, and with the fiber core, sound has a high possibility of being absorbed. Have you considered Aluminum 2G?"

She frowns, her lips pursing briefly together. "I hadn't thought to use that. I was concerned about withholding shocks. But I'm realizing now that with A2G, the device could actually be placed _inside_ a console station!"

Spock nods. "My thoughts exactly. It is an advanced metal and not the easiest to come by, but with a properly written grant, I am certain you would find it available to you."

She grins. "I'm terrific at grant writing! I've done three already."

Three approved grants before her senior year, which indicates she is not only brilliant, but hard working. He hands her back her PADD, tucking his hands behind his back. "I am curious as to why you did not choose Computer Science as your major when you are able to create these devices in your spare time with what appears to be little training," Spock finds himself saying. Engaging in small talk is unlike him, especially with an Earth female, but he cannot help himself. She is clearly of high intelligence, as well as being very lovely. Already, there is a natural chemistry between them, one he would be illogical to deny. The feeling is faint, but does exist.

"Is that your way of saying you're impressed?" Cadet Nyota Uhura asks, smiling slightly.

Vulcans did not lie. "Very much so. Further, now that I have seen this example of your capabilities, I am in compliance with assisting you."

"Really? You'll help me with it?" She looks so happy that _he_ almost smiles.

He hears himself speaking, almost as if he is having an out of body experience. "An independent study could be arranged. The rest of my colleagues also have Teaching Assistants, though I would not want to burden you with duties when you seem to have a full schedule. However, if you would be willing to serve as such under my direction, you would have access to the console stations and any of the materials in the science labs, granted you document what supplies you use so they can be replenished."

She beams, giving a little hop. "Yes! Absolutely! It's more than what I hoped for, it's the perfect solution to my scheduling dilemma! I-I can also help you with whatever else you might need, Commander. Just let me know."

"It would be folly not to assist you when I can see you are naturally talented and so passionate about your career."

_Never have I given such compliments. What am I doing? Is she realizing that I...I am in want of her? That I do wish to please her?_

Cadet Uhura deepens in color, yet holds his gaze. "Oh, thank you very much, Commander."

Something in her eyes has trapped him, and though he knows he should bring the conversation to a close, he finds he can say nothing, can do nothing but stare at her. In fact, they stand there, staring at each other until finally, she speaks. "Well...I should get going. I'll get busy with the grant application right away."

He tears his eyes away from her to glance at the time on his comm. "Very well. I too, must go. I have a class shortly. I will email you the codes and the verification letter stating your signing on as my aide when I return to my quarters."

Cadet Uhura's smile radiates. "Thank you, Sir. This is the best news I've heard all year."

That night, for the first time in months, he skips meditation exercises, choosing instead to pleasure himself while her scent clouds his memory like the fog that so frequently covers San Francisco.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

There isn't a moment of awkwardness as Nyota begins her work as his assistant. She's prompt with her duties and within the first two months of being his aide, has set up tutoring sessions with the students in his classes, using the top 5 percent in each class to assist those who were close to or failing his courses.

"I do not see the need to offer extra credit in my classes for those who have volunteered to assist you with your tutoring sessions," Spock says, looking over the list of students signed up for help that afternoon in the lab. "Does that not defeat the purpose of _volunteering_?"

"Commander, you've got to give some kind of incentive. True, it's volunteering but they've also earned the right towards some _sort_ of favor. You're not the easiest teacher to get an A out of," she replied.

"An A should be earned. Furthermore, many mistake my rigorous standards as an attempt to deliberately fail students, which is not my intent. I wish for them to have a full understanding of the material presented. There is a difference in being safely seated in a Starfleet classroom or lab and being in space operating a fully functioning machine with thousands of lives at stake," Spock argues.

Nyota smiles up at him. "I understand your methods. Your standards are what make you an excellent teacher, in my opinion. But I think it's important to reward the students who have met your expectations with a few extra credit points. I believe they've more than earned it. They'll feel proud and they'll work that much harder to help their classmates. You have more students successfully passing your classes, which means that they are also successfully learning the material, and then, what have you here but the most capable and prepared students all coming from _your_ classes. It's sound logic," she says.

He does not argue her point this time. She would know, after all, more about the strange behavior of human beings and their constant need to socialize. Vulcans were not necessarily creatures of solitude, but they always took their studies very seriously. The thought of sharing learning time with another was unheard of on his home planet. Besides, there was only room for one in the learning pods he'd been accustomed to growing up.

Spock intentionally passes by the room when he knows she is there conducting her tutoring sessions. There are more students present than he imagined, perhaps sixteen, seventeen. They are scattered around the learning lab, each with one of the top averaging students, practicing formulas or working problems using mini hover boards. He stops just outside the door, partially hidden from view, and watches the way she uses her hands to express her teaching, nodding her head when her group grasps a concept, frowning slightly when they miss the point. He is familiar with her nuances, her facial expressions. He has not learned them all, as they have only worked together a short while, but the ones she demonstrates in the lab, he is familiar with. He has been studying her more than he realizes.

Spock notes that her group is the largest, a fact he does not figure to be coincidental. Nyota smiles easily, gives high praises. Spock can see from the body language of everyone around her that she is well liked. She is radiant, and others are drawn to her like a magnet. Her hair is down today, the front section held back with a green and white hair barrette. She is beautiful.

_Walk away, you fool. This human girl is no more interested in you than was your ex bride to be. You could not keep the affections of a Vulcan woman of high caliber, what makes you think _she_ would have you?_

He turns from the learning lab room and goes back to his office to prepare his lessons for the next week. He stays until he's quite sure he's the last on the office floors, and then he takes the shuttle to his quarters a good ways from the school grounds.

His meditations are affected that night. Every time he closes his eyes, he can see her—the way her pretty smile encourages the others who are trying to pass his classes, as well as the soft way her black hair cascades over her shoulders and falls gently to her waist.

His thoughts of T'Pring still come and go unexpectedly, yet, it's another four months before he has to admit to himself that Nyota captivates him.

His developing feelings are inappropriate on many levels, the very least of which that she shows not the slightest interest in testing his affections. He realizes one afternoon as he sees her exiting the campus gym and he makes a sharp turn in the opposite direction to avoid running into her that there is another feeling accompanying his fascination of her—fear.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Spock and Nyota, along with a small team of other research assistants in the Science and Technology department, work extensively for several months perfecting her transmission device, named _The Star_, after her name meaning. What begins as a somewhat misshapen tool too large for imbedding inside a console station is now a tiny, sleek implant that not only has been tested thoroughly, but has also succeeded in improving the locality of subspace signals.

Nyota decides to give it one final try on a blurry Wednesday night, when there is rain and fog. She's submitting it for approval to the Board of Directors at Starfleet in two days, and she wants everything to be perfect, though Spock has told her he feels they have done all they could. While Nyota's name will be at the top of the application for approval, everyone involved will get some credit for the work, as it certainly took working together to create the final design.

Spock has never "worked together" before. It makes him uncomfortable at first, sitting in the lab or campus library study cubicles debating mechanisms and internal design structures. Soon, however, he found he looked forward to the meetings as he grew accustomed to the give and take, intellectual chatter, and sometimes shared meals with the team. It is, he realizes, the first time in his life where he has actually bonded with others. He sympathizes with the rest when their first few models failed or broke and the team groaned in disappointment or exhaustion. He allows himself to feel the disappointment, though cautiously. And when the test runs succeed, or when ideas compliment each other, especially when _The Star_ picks up its first signal from deep space, he allows himself to rejoice. There is hand clapping (which he avoids, being telepathic) and back slapping. It is the first time he embraces Nyota, as she throws her arms around his neck, laughing happily. The embrace ends before it begins, with her slipping from his arms too soon to embrace the other group members. Spock, uncontrollably this time, feels a twinge of longing that she had held on to him longer, tighter. He is here, with _friends_, because of her. Because of her, he _feels _and it's without shame or guilt.

He says nothing regarding this positive change she has roused in him. His newly discovered receptivity makes him feel ever more bashful in her presence. Besides, she would not care. Nyota is seeing someone, a Cadet Philip Gilesboro. She seems content in her relationship, and even if she were not, Spock is certain she could have whomever she chose. She is highly desirable.

"You are certain you wish to test the _Star_ at this hour? The building will be closing shortly," Spock says to Nyota, who is answering messages on her comm.

"Dammit, I hadn't even realized the time!" she curses, then looking up at him, ducks her head a little. "Sorry, Spock." They have taken to calling each other by their first names, made comfortable by the many late hours they have put in to planning.

"Expletives are acceptable in this situation," Spock says. "I have heard worse."

She laughs. "But never used them yourself, right?"

"Not in Standard, no. But in my native tongue, I have used them frequently."

She pauses, her eyes softening. "I've been your assistant for a year now, and I've never heard you speak Vulcan. Will you say something?"

It is a request she _would_ make, for she finds such fascination in the simplest things about him, about everyone. It is one of the things he is so fond of about her. She pays attention to the smallest detail. She is always wiling to learn a new skill. She was the first person he'd met since becoming a Commander that had strode up to his three dimensional chess set in the corner of his office, picked up a piece, and said, "What is this and when are you going to show me how it works?" And, a few days later, "Is that meatless? It _is_, isn't it? What kind of broth is that? It smells delicious!" regarding his vegetarian stew being poured from his food replicator.

"What would you like me to say?" Spock asks her.

She smiles, shrugs. "Anything. We're always talking about work, so tell me something I don't know about you. A secret. I won't know what you're talking about, so you're safe."

His mind flashes back to T'Pring, the last time he saw her over four years ago, when she broke his heart. What has changed in his life since then? Nearly everything. She says she can't understand Vulcan, yet he is still hesitant over the words that are on the tip of his tongue.

"Please?" Nyota begs, clasping her hands and making her lips pouty like a child's.

He pauses only a moment before telling her, "_Nash veh...khreya_. _Pa...tu...tu...katau vo'ektau mene zaprah. Nash veh th'i-oxalra."_ (This one...has been deeply hurt, but you...you...have brought balance again. This one is very thankful for you.)

Nyota gasps, her hand going over her heart. "Oh, Spock, it sounds so _beautiful!_ What did you say?"

"You asked me for a secret. I have told you one," Spock replies. "From my understanding, a secret is a silent promise. So in Standard, my words will remain as such."

Nyota smiles, shaking her head. She puts everything into her bag, leaving out only _Star_. "You are a man of your word, if nothing else. I should have thought of stipulations before my request. But let me promise _you_ one thing, Spock. One day, I _will_ be fluent enough in your language to communicate."

"I believe it. You are determined enough to grasp the inflect, which is difficult for most humans."

"It's more than that," she says, looking up at him. "I feel like...you would talk to me more if I knew it. Vulcan, I mean." She has started walking out, and reaches the door first. She holds the door open behind her and he follows her out.

"Our conversations have been lacking?" he asks as they walk to the turbo lift to exit the building. They enter the lift at the same time, and the door slide shut behind them.

"No," Nyota says, pressing the button for the ground floor. "It's just that sometimes…I just wish there was…more _we_ could talk about."

She wished to talk with him? About what? "Explain," he says. The lift makes its swift descent downwards. He wants more time, because once they leave the building, she will go one way and he will go another. He studies her carefully and notices that her cheeks have colored deeply, bringing out a coppery flush to her skin tone.

"You know…" she says. "We just never talk about _you_. Your family. Your childhood. If you're…you know…I mean, you know a lot about me. You know where I'm from, what my parents do...my little brother's name...I don't even know if you..." she tapers off, rubbing her eyes. "You know what, I'm rambling. Never I said anything."

He does not want to forget she said anything, but there is no time left for speaking, because as soon as they exit the building, there is Cadet Gilesboro, waiting for her.

"Hey, Nyota," he says, giving her a quick hug. He salutes Spock, giving a brief nod and a, "Commander Spock."

"Good evening, Cadet," Spock responds. Cadet Gilesboro steps closer to Nyota, sliding an arm around her waist.

"You didn't have to wait for me," Nyota says, not unkindly.

"I wouldn't let you walk back to the dorms alone," Cadet Gilesboro says.

"That's sweet," Nyota says. She turns to Spock over her shoulder. "I'll go and test _Star_ with him, then write up a final report when I get back to my room. I'll email it to you for proofreading, okay?"

Spock nods, desperately trying to ignore the sight of her wrapped in her acquaintance's arms. It should not bother him in the slightest, but it does. "Of course. I trust that Cadet Gilesboro will see you back to your dorm before curfew, so I bid you both good evening."

"Yes, Sir," Nyota and her companion reply in unison.

Spock walks slower than normal to the shuttle stop.

_I have acted illogically. And now I will suffer for it. I must learn to let it go. _

But let what go? What is this, this tightening in his chest that hurts, aches because _he_ wanted to be the one to test _Star _alone with her_, _but her mate came and ruined his wishes? Could he possibly be feeling what he thought he was not capable of again? He _can't_ be in love with her. He hasn't known her long enough. Only a year. He had known T'Pring his entire life before Starfleet, and she had betrayed him.

He will not be betrayed again, not even by his own stubborn heart.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"_Nash veh…nash veh…ahm glat…Nyota_." She speaks beautifully, carefully. She's a perfectionist in all that she does.

"Partially correct, but you should use _ahm_ instead of _ahm glat_. Again," Spock says.

Nyota repeats. "_Nash veh AHM Nyota_." (This one is named Nyota.)

"_Sanosh tu latva, Nyota. Ek tra vash tu?_" (Pleased to meet you, Nyota. What planet are you from?)

She frowns, her head tilting to the side. "Is that…is that…where am I from?"

Spock nods. "Please respond in Vulcan."

She takes a deep breath, biting the corner of her lip. "Um…um.._nash veh panu wash Terrasu_—"

Spock shakes his head, interrupting. "_Nash veh panu _VASH_ Terrasu_—"

"Right, _vash_, **vash**…"

The lesson continues. Spock listens attentively, providing amplification when needed. She makes very few errors, but takes lots of notes anyway. At one point, he moves his chair closer to hers, dulling his telepathic energies before placing his fingers gently across her neck. "The language should be felt here, at the base of the throat when pronouncing most consonants. It requires practice but placing your fingers against the neck can help to guide the proper pronunciation."

Unexpectedly, her hand closes over his. Their eyes lock together and do not stray apart. "Here?" she asks in barely a whisper.

Their joined hands create a small hum of concretely felt energy. Her heartbeat accelerates through her delicate skin. She is either afraid of him, or excited. Because he has blocked his telepathy, he does not know for sure which and he dares not assume the latter. To avoid panic, he removes his hand from underneath hers.

"Yes," he says. A tiny thrill continues to course through his body. He wants to touch her again, but does not know how. He settles for leaving his chair where it is, close beside her.

_How is it, again, that we ended up here? That she asked me to teach her my native language, and I agreed?_

He's not sure of the answer, but he knows that by now, he will deny her nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Most nights, Spock lay awake thinking of Nyota. Some nights he just thinks—of things she said that day, or how she looks crossing the room, the way she smells of amber, the way his heart stops when she drops off something in his office. Other nights, his hand is slipping beneath the hem of his cotton pants before he can stop himself, to grasp and pump his erection until he releases, with his eyes squeezed shut and her name on his lips. It embarrasses him when he sees her during the day, knowing she has no clue that he pleasures himself with thoughts of her riding him, submitting to him and only him as she lay underneath him, loving him. What would she do, if she knew she was his fantasy? He's too fearful to find out.

He knows that to most, he is considered unfeeling and emotionless. It is untrue. He, like all Vulcans, was capable of deep, powerful emotions. He is capable of love that could move entire worlds, if given a chance to prove it so. Additionally, there is a great sexuality inside of him, a tremendous one, actually, but as he has no bond mate, he has nothing to help him release his recently greater growing urge to mate. The masturbation helps but it is not enough. The meditation helps, but it is not enough. Even now, intercourse with just any female would not be enough. His primal instincts are calling on him to form a complete bond with a female who complimented him mentally, emotionally and physically.

He _has_ found one, only she is not his. He is not the type of man to just come out and ask to court her, however it is done on Earth. He has calmly, rationally accepted that he is in love with her, but he will never tell her. He feels afraid. He could not, would not, risk another rejection to his heart.

"Is the sun ever going to come out? I swear," she sighs one Thursday, on the fifth day straight of clouds and rain.

They walk together under his rain shield as naturally as if they have known each other all their lives. He lives for moments such as these, when he can be close to her instead of having to be apart, the way they tend to be in the Science building. He always has to share her attention, but he doesn't now, not in this moment.

"Your PADD comes with a weather app installed. Did you not view it?" he asks her.

"Yes, Spock, of course I looked at the app. I'm just from a place where things aren't always so gray all the time. I get homesick when it's like this for too long," she explains. He made as if to turn left, where the path to her dorm was, but she gripped his arm and shook her head. "No, I'm going this way."

They continue walking towards the shuttles. He is on his way to his quarters for the evening. "You do not usually take the shuttle to your dorm," Spock observes.

"Philip and I are going to the movies," she replies, staring straight ahead. Spock hides the tug of jealousy in his chest as they come to the stop at the shuttle launch. "Your plans with your partner should cheer you, then," he says. "Perhaps you will not be bothered by the dullness of the weather afterwards."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" she asks him, looking up at him in surprise.

He blinks, confused. "Have I said something offensive?"

She bursts into laughter, shaking her head. "Sometimes I forget that you're not from Earth. Yeah...no, coming from you, I know you meant that sincerely. If you were from here, I'd think you were indicating that I'd be...you know, having sex or something, and that's what would take my mind off the rain."

He thinks of it often enough with her. He can feel his face grow warm. "I would not suggest or imply such a thing," he says quietly.

"I know you wouldn't," she says just as quietly. "You've always been the epitome of respectful. It's one reason why I trust you so much."  
Though he does not reply to her statement, he feels a surge of pride at her words.

The shuttle she is taking arrives first.

"I hope you find the movie enjoyable," he tells her.

"Thanks." She smiles, ducking from his rain shield to the bus, throwing a quick wave to him.

* * *

Approximately an hour and a half later, Spock is surprised to see Nyota's name pop up on his comm. "Hello?" he asks. He hears a sob that stops his heart. "Spock? Are you busy? I know it's late, but I—"

He jumps to his feet, heart racing. "Are you hurt? Do I need to get you?"

"No, it's not that! I just...I just need to come over. Please," she gasps. She sounds like she is choking. He gives her directions to his apartment, and paces as she waits. He can't begin to imagine what has happened, what Cadet Gilesboro has done to her. He knows _something_ bad has happened. Just as he has made his mind up to go looking for her in the night, his door chime rings. He is at the door in seconds, throwing it open at once. Nyota practically leaps into his arms, crying hysterically. He pulls her in, closing the door behind them.

"What is wrong? What has happened?" he asks her, his heart pounding. He leads her to the couch in his living area, dulling his telepathic abilities. He grabs her arm, and even with his senses dulled, he can feel great pain radiating from her.

"He—He—stood me up! We were supposed to meet at the theater but then the movie started and he hadn't come. So I called him. Someone answered but then hung up. I went to his dorm and knocked on the door. I stood there like an idiot knocking until he opened it, and he pretended like he didn't remember making plans, which was a _lie_! I knew he was hiding something, so I went in. He tried to grab me but I pulled away and I—I saw some other _girl_ in the room, holding a sheet over her. He slept with someone else! He lied to me and he cheated, I know he did! And she was _there_, in the same bed where's he's been with me! I feel like such an ass! Gaila warned me his pheromones were too strong, and he wouldn't be able to commit but I didn't listen!" Nyota wails. She clutched her head, leaning forward in another fit of tears.

Her feelings are all too familiar to Spock. Though T'Pring had not been caught with her preferred other, he was certain there were times when she strayed physically and kept it from him.

"I am sorry, Nyota," Spock says, gently.

She leans her head on his shoulder, sobbing. "I don't understand…what _haven't_ I done for him? Why would he do it? I'm _the valedictorian of my class_! That girl looked like some insignificant first year who probably hasn't earned credit A! I always tried to wear what he liked! I helped him with all his exams! I slept with him whenever he asked, I risked getting caught with him in _my own room_! I don't understand it! What did I do wrong?" she cries.

"You are not in the wrong. The loss is his, Nyota. His maturity is lacking. He will certainly regret his egregious actions," Spock encourages. His words seems to calm her, and she lays against him silently for some time. He doesn't mind.

"He was even jealous of you," Nyota says, sniffing. She lets out a defeated chuckle. "He didn't like all the time we spent together trying to work on _Star_. I told him so many times that you and I were just friends, that most of the time, we're not even alone with each other. He always gave me shit about you. He was even convinced that you liked me, which I told him was ridiculous. He never let up."

Spock wants to tell Nyota that Cadet Gilesboro had been absolutely right, but the timing is off. "Nyota—"

He is interrupted when Nyota's comm goes off. "It's him!" she hisses. "What should I do?" She jumps to her feet, pressing her comm on before Spock can even give her a reply.

"I don't know _why_ you're calling me, you piece of lying _shit_! Don't try to deny what you did, I _saw_ her in your fucking bed!" Nyota screams into the phone. She makes a _wait-a-minute_ face at Spock and goes back into his bedroom, closing the door before he can say a word.

Spock exhales. For the first time in a long time, his mind is whirling. Never in his entire life has he dealt with an emotional response of this magnitude. He has never seen Nyota cry, nor has he heard her screaming the way she is now. She is angry, however, and he understands it. But what is he to do? Is he an accomplice now to her relationship woes? Should he encourage her to work it out privately or continue to support her? He is not sure, so what he does it folds his hands behind his back and return to pacing his apartment. He can hear Nyota's lowered voice, speaking now in hushed whispers.

After some time, she slumps from his bedroom, looking dejected. "We're done. I broke up with him. Don't worry, I didn't tell him I was over here. Not that you have any reason to be afraid of him, but I know what a private person you are. And I—I just…barged in here with all my issues. I'm so sorry," she says, looking guilty. She clutches her forehead once more and lets out a groan. "This has been…the _worst_ night of my life. I'll go now."

She makes a move towards the door. Spock goes to put on his jacket. "I will accompany you back to campus."

"Spock, I've done enough. For all I know, I've ruined your night with this craziness. You could be expecting a date over here and I've interrupted. Don't worry about me, I'm upset enough to kill anyone who even thinks about messing with me."

"I am not expecting anyone. In fact, our situations are similar. My fiancé ended our engagement while I was in Starfleet as a student. I too experienced feelings of anguish and betrayal. I understand your feelings."

Nyota's eyes grow wide. "Really? You were engaged?"

Spock nods. "Once. I have not been in a serious relationship since her."

"Wow. I didn't know that. I'm so sorry. Why did she break it off?"

"She did not love me," he says simply.

Nyota shakes her head in disbelief. "How could she not?" she whispers.

Spock lowers his eyes as he continues, "I made her every promise I could, even that I would return to Vulcan permanently because she was so adamant about living there. I was willing to do anything for her. She told me there was nothing I could do to make her feelings for me any different. She found another and married shortly after ending our engagement, and I have not spoken with her since. Her name was T'Pring."

Nyota's eyes are sympathetic now. "That's _terrible_," she breathes. "That's a lot worse than my situation. I have no right to complain about my dumb relationship. For God's sake, you were _engaged_."

She bites her lip, then steps close to him, putting her arms around his neck. "She's crazy. You're literally the perfect man. Any woman who would take the time to know you could see that. You—You're perfect. And you know what else?"

She lets go, and steps back, but remains holding on to the front of his jacket. She blinks quickly before saying, "In a selfish way, I'm _glad_ you came to Earth. And I'm glad you came to Starfleet. I would never have met you otherwise. I would never have gotten _Star_ up and running, and I wouldn't be learning one of the most beautiful languages in the universe. I wouldn't have met one of my closest friends," Nyota says. "One of my _best_ friends."

She stands on her toes, and kisses him on the cheek.

Perhaps it is the way she stands back, with a hint of a sad little smile on her face. Perhaps it is the way she stands so closely to him that he can smell the soap on her skin. Perhaps the feel of her soft lips against his face triggers a great breaking, the crack in the dam that finally shatters beneath the crushing weight of water.

Without warning, without words, both lean in slowly, simultaneously, and kiss a second time, mouth to mouth.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Her eyes are still closed when their lips finally do part, so he kisses her again, gently, and again, before the kissing finally ends with another embrace. "It makes sense, doesn't it?" Nyota exhales. "It _all_ makes sense. I thought…I mean, I thought you wouldn't…want this. So I convinced myself there was nothing—"

"There was always something," he interrupts her. "My own cowardice caused me to fight against what I felt inside. But you have been a constant in my heart for so long. So long." He slips his hands over hers, their fingers laced tightly together. Yes. The energy between them is very real, very strong.

"Spock, do you know I felt something between us since that first time I came to your office to ask you about my schedule?"

He smiles. "I remember thinking the same. It _did_ start that day."

"I know it sounds irrational to say this after what just happened, but…I'm so _sure_. It feels so right! But I— I don't know what we should do. What _should_ we do?"

Their foreheads come together. "We will do whatever you choose, Nyota."

"Let's…let's just…let's just _talk_, about everything. Let's talk until the sun comes up! There's so much to say. And so much we need to figure out!"

"We will do as you wish. I will do as you wish. I am yours. I am free to admit now that I am yours, and yours is all I ever want to be," he confesses.

"Oh, Spock…how can you be so sure…after what I did, coming here and just breaking up with Philip?" she breathes. "My actions must seem so uncertain to you, without any way to prove that I'm sincere. But I am. I promise you, I am!"

There is a way, but he could not possibly expect her to agree to a meld, a permanent bonding between them when things are so newly discovered. He makes a quick decision to go with his instinct, to trust the words that she tells him as he has never trusted a female before. The bond can come later, after he has explained much to her. Perhaps after they make love, if she agrees to become intimate. He leads her to the couch, where they sit facing one another. Their hands find their way back together, and small bursts of energy travel up and down his arms. She _is_ happy. He can feel it. "Nyota, I understand your relationship just ended, and it is illogical to ask you made an immediate decision about the two of us now. If you need time, I will give it. If you need space, I will give it. I will give you anything, if there is even a small chance that your desire to be together is similar to mine," he tells her.

Her eyes brim with tears. "I've been in love with you all year. That's a fact," she whispers. "I want this. I want you. But I don't want to rush. I don't want to mess this up. We _can't_ mess this up. We should make sure we're making reasonable decisions, and not acting off of everything that went on tonight. What if T'Pring wants you back?"

"I do not care what T'Pring wants. I have made my choice. What if Cadet Gilesboro wants you back? He is likely to wish to make amends. What will be _your_ choice?" Spock asks.

"I don't want him. I know it sounds senseless, and we had a few peaceful months, but there was not one day…not _one_, when I didn't wonder what it would be like to be _your_ girlfriend. There was never a time when you weren't in my heart, somewhere," Nyota says.

Hearing her say those words fill him with a completion he cannot describe. He _had_ been in her heart, just as she had been in his. "If this is a dream, let me never awake from it," he whispers in her ear.

She shakes her head. "It's real. I'm real. Talk to me now. Hold me. We need to figure this thing out," she whispered back. "Even if it takes all night."

So he puts his arms around her, and they talk. When she eventually falls asleep on his shoulder, he has a clear understanding of what should be done, and what should not. He has a clear understanding that _this_, with her, is—finally—love.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Things happen, the way they often do in life, and Spock and Nyota's schedules keep them just busy enough over the next week that there is no time for spending time together alone. It nearly drives Spock mad, as all he can receive from her are gentle, loving glances in passing and occasional messages sent to his comm.

_Thinking of you. _

_Missing you. _

_I love you_.

All of his days have taken on new meaning. He feels complete. He feels downright elated at the thought of her, and he finds himself longing for the next moment he can hold her against him, and kiss her again. He reads and rereads her text messages saved in his comm, smiling as his eyes skim the tiny words written across his screen.

And so since he is used to receiving Nyota's words through his comm, he is surprised one day to find a message from an unknown identification come through.

_Spock, I have some business on Earth and I would like to see you. I will be visiting soon. Respond back when you are available. _

Frowning, Spock types back, _Who is this? _ He is stunned with the reply.

_T'Pring._

Naturally, his first thought is one of confusion. His second, of the woman he now loves, Nyota. They had just spoken of something like this happening, of the "what if's" of the past returning to haunt him, possibly Nyota, too. What business on Earth could she possibly have that would cause her to stop and see him? It sounds like fraud to him, except he knows that Vulcans do not lie. Still, he has moved on with his life. He is in love with someone else. He doesn't need to see her, not for any reason, so logically, he knows he should dismiss T'Pring altogether; yet, if he were accepting of the core truth of the matter...he was curious.

He knows one thing he will never do is lie to Nyota, so he calls her later that night to tell her about the message. "Hmm," Nyota says, and nothing more.

"Please elaborate on your feelings," Spock says, fearing anger. He waits a moment, then adds, "Perhaps we should discuss it in person?"

"I wish I could, but I have two study groups and a paper to finish. I wouldn't be free until after midnight," Nyota sighs.

"After midnight is acceptable," Spock urges.

She gives a tired chuckle. "I'd fall asleep the second I got there. It's been an exhausting eight days. Can you meet me for lunch tomorrow? Around eleven? I won't have long because I have to attend a lecture that afternoon, but at least we could talk then."

He has a meeting, but it should not be a problem to reschedule. "That is a suitable time. Where should we meet?"

They know that their relationship would be grounds for dismissal for him, being her superior, and possible suspension for her. They have made a promise to keep things as private as possible anytime they are near each other on campus or anywhere close by, which makes things all the more difficult for them to handle when they have been forced apart for so many days with school work.

"I could come there. It's probably safest for the middle of the day," Nyota says. "You could make that vegetable soup for me."

"I will do so."

"Great."

They hang up and Spock is left feeling satisfied until he finds himself looking back at T'Pring's message. _Respond back_. And say what? That he looks forward to seeing her? That he hates her? He does not hate T'Pring, but he certainly does not love her anymore. He has just decided that he will not send a response back when his comm rings, and the same number from whence the text came showed on the screen. It is T'Pring, but calling this time. He is trapped and though he knows in his heart he should just let the call go to voice mail, he finds himself pressing the "Accept" button.

"Spock?"

He draws a shaky breath. He has not heard her voice in five years. He no longer loves her, but yet and still she was the first woman he _did_ love. In a way he unfairly can put into words, there is an obligation to speak to her. Somehow, someway, there is.

"Spock? Are you there?"

"I am here," he says, holding the comm tighter than necessary.

"Did you receive my earlier message?" T'Pring asks, as if they had just spoken last week, as if it hasn't been years.

"How did you get this number?" he blurts out.

"Your father gave it to me."

Spock should have known. His father appeared to be just as upset about the termination of the engagement as Spock once word had gotten out. "I fail to understand why you are suddenly attempting to make amends. My schedule is very busy so please state your business on Earth and your reasons for contacting me," he tells her stiffly.

"I wish to do just that—make amends. I have thought about the way I treated you, Spock, and the things I said and I feel sadness that I hurt you."

"Sadness that comes five years past its time? My partner certainly would object to your visit. I am _certain_ she would."

T'Pring pauses. "You have found a Vulcan woman there?"

He knows where she's going with this question, planting her manipulative little seeds. "She is not of Vulcan decent."

"And what does your father have to say about that choice?"

"Rightfully, it should be of no concern to him at all as he himself did not choose a Vulcan woman when all was said and done. I am not in accordance with discussing my father or my relationship any further with you. I am beginning to find this entire conversation unsettling."

"As that is not my intent, let us meet in a common place. I will come to your office. You have one, do you not? Are you a Commanding officer in Starfleet? I will say what is necessary and the next decisions will be entirely up to you," T'Pring says, as if it's all been made up.

"I suppose my father has told you I am a Commanding officer with my own office as well," Spock says angrily.

"There is no reason for defiance. He and I are both on Vulcan, Spock. At one time, you were to be my intended. He has long forgiven me for making a different choice."

Spock has no retort, but waits on the line to see what she will say next. "I will be on Earth Friday. What time will you be available?" she presses.

He closes his eyes, the guilt already pouring in. Nyota. She would feel betrayed, so betrayed if she could see him now, debating whether or not to let T'Pring see him. "1600 hours is acceptable. I am on the third floor. My office is the fourth on the right," he finally says.

"Very well. We shall meet again soon," T'Pring says.

There is a sinking feeling in his stomach long after he has disconnected the call.

* * *

He tells Nyota everything shortly after she arrives. She has been quiet ever since.

"Please. I never wish to lie to you, or hurt you. Please tell me your thoughts," Spock implores, watching her poke the soup she was so excited about him making yesterday. She has taken two bites since he told her T'Pring is coming.

"Honestly?" Nyota sighs, dropping her spoon and looking up at him. "I don't want you to see her. At all. Why is she coming back after all this time? What does she want? She's still cool with you father? And why would your father tell her that you were working here? Have you told your parents about me?"

Spock isn't sure where to begin. Has he told his parents about her? Yes and no. He opens his mouth to answer when Nyota leans back in his kitchen chair and braces her hand against her forehead. "But I know that we can't have a relationship if there's no trust. And I don't have the right to ask you _not_ to see anyone. You probably have some things you want to get off your chest with her. But it still bothers me to think about you being…alone with her. I don't know...maybe it's too soon for all of this. Maybe we should just give each other some time..." she trails off, looking hurt.

"The words we spoke to each other a week ago were sincere. I felt it through the little telepathy I allowed when I touched you. If you do not want me to see her, I will not."

"Do you want to see her?"

"She has no purpose in my life."

"_But do you want to see her?_"

Spock stiffens. "There is a part of me that is curious to know what she wants to say. I will not lie to you."

Nyota nods. "I understand. She broke your heart and you never got over it. Maybe, with the right words, she can convince you to take her back—"

His eyes widen in alarm. "You mistake my statements, Nyota. Yes, she did, as you say, break my heart. It did take me some time to move beyond her betrayal and her dishonesty. But it has been five years since that time. What you and I have discovered is greater than any moments of happiness I thought I had when I was with her. The love I feel for you is completely different. It is right, and true. It is a love I would fight for. One I would be willing...to die for." Nyota blushes as he reaches for her hands from across the table, brings them to his lips, kisses them. "I will tell her not to come. It is unnecessary, besides."

She shakes her head. "Don't do that. I don't want you to spend another five years wondering what would have happened if you had. I don't think I can be totally comfortable unless you see her and analyze your feelings," she says.

"Well," Spock says, "what can I do to ease your uncertainty that you are the one I have chosen?"

She smiles, but her smile is sad. "Talk to her then still choose me in the end," she says.

"It is not a competition," Spock tells her.

"Maybe it is," Nyota says. "And maybe it isn't." She takes her hands gently back so she can return to her lunch.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nyota, perhaps not so coincidentally, becomes engrossed with so many activities over the next three days that Spock's relationship with her is reduced to text messages—she's in a meeting, she's at choir practice, or she's studying. He does not doubt she is doing those things, however, she has stopped calling him afterwards, as she usually does. Her little smiles are the same whenever she is working alongside him during her office hours, but there are so many other students and professors milling about, there is never time to be alone. (Her tutoring sessions have become even more well attended, so he can forget about spending time with her there, though he has started making little visits more frequently when he knows she is leading a session.)

Friday arrives sooner than Spock would like, and so does 1600 hours. To make matters worse, the building is almost always near desertion on late Friday afternoons; Spock is not sure how he feels about being in the presence of his ex-fiance without anyone else around. He thinks that perhaps he suggest they take their arranged meeting to another more populated area to avoid any suspected wrong doing, according to what Nyota may think.

His apartment is out, for obvious reasons, so begins to investigate nearby restaurants. He looks for plain, American meals on the menu and is doing so when there is a knock on his door. He jerks upright, barely getting to his feet before his door opens, and T'Pring sweeps into the room.

"Spock," T'Pring says, smiling. She walks gracefully across the room towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders, brushing her lips against his face quickly.

"T'Pring," he says with a nod. He moves back slightly. There is a moment of awkwardness as he clears his throat. She stands before him as if she really _was_ his wife, coming to pick him up for a pleasant stroll home. As if it hasn't been six years. "I was looking into nearby restaurants. The science building is quick to empty of its residents before the start of the weekend—"

"You wanted to take me to dine? How amiable of you," she says. Her lips have a smile on them, but her eyes don't match the rest of her made up face. She looks around his office, and he stands still, unsure of what to do or feel. "Have you no photographs of her? Your significant other?"

Spock silently opens his comm where there is a picture of Nyota he took one day on the metal benches that overlook the pier. He shows it to T'Pring, who takes the comm from him. She stares at it for a long time, finally running a finger down the screen. "She is a beautiful girl. She looks very young."

Spock takes his comm back. "She is three years younger than myself." He places his comm back on his desk and looks at T'Pring. "You did not come here to discuss my romantic life, however."

"Perhaps I did." She goes to one of his chair, usually the seat where Nyota leaves her things hurriedly when she is on her way to tutor or running experiments in the lab. "May I sit?"

"You may."

T'Pring sits, crossing her legs. "Spock, I can sense your tension."

"Of course I am tense. I have not seen you since you told me that you had chosen another then coldly walked away without a backwards glance."

"I regret the way I handled things that day. I know how much it must have hurt you."

"You did not care at the time. I find it hard to believe you care six years later."

"Six years is a long time to think about mistakes one has made…a longer time still to wonder if things might have been different had I given them a chance," she says softly. She stands and starts towards him as if she is a lioness about to devour her prey.

"Much has changed," Spock tells her, slowly backing away. "Much."

"I agree. I am a married woman now, this is true. But Spock, when I think of the way you treated me…how much you loved me…it makes me feel nothing but shame for the way I behaved." She has cornered him against the wall; there is nowhere left for him to move to get away from her. And it sinks in, that _that_ is his heart's desire—to get away from her. Spock shakes his head. "You know nothing of shame. Shame is what I brought upon my family when they heard….about you…and Stonn. I practically had no choice but to leave Vulcan."

She runs her fingers over his face. "I am here now asking your forgiveness. Begging for it."

"Stop this," Spock tells her firmly. "You are acting irrationally."

"My husband has proven to be adulterous, time and again. There is no stopping him, yet the pairing between us is acceptable so we will not part. I think about you those nights I lay in bed alone. I think of how you would never have betrayed me the way he does."

Her marriage did not turn out the way she planned, and now she expects him to be at her beckoning call. She is nothing more than a user, and still dishonest as six years ago. "Your marital issues are none of my concern, furthermore, I believe that our dining would be a mistake. I think it best that you see yourself out."

She slips off her outer robes to reveal a very low cut set of robes underneath. Her dark hair hangs partially over her shoulder, and the glint of the emerald necklace she wears nestles between her cleavage. "Help me, Spock. You loved me once. I only need you for one night. When was the last time you experienced the thrill of a female body in the flesh beside your own?"

"Get out," Spock says sharply. But she does not get out. Instead, she steps closer to him. "I need to know that I am still desirable," she whispers, and before he can stop her, she has clutched his face in her hands and is kissing him. She moans, trying to wrap her arms around him, trying to push her tongue in his mouth.

His hearing is sharper than a human beings, so he hears the short gasp, and finally manages to break away from T'Pring in time to see a cloud of black hair whipping out of sight, before his office door slams shut. His true love has seen T'Pring making advances on him and now he is certain she will assume the worst.

"Nyota!" he cries, and tries to go after her when T'Pring grabs his arm.

"Stop this madness!" he says angrily, jerking free. He throws open the door of his office, and all but runs towards the turbo lift, but it is empty. The hall is nearly empty, save for a few of his colleagues, who look at him strangely.

"Cadet Uhura. Did she pass this way?" Spock asks Dr. Longbottom. She pulls her own office door shut, locks it with her security card.

"No, I didn't see her. But if you happen to catch up with her, tell her to check her email. I've got a couple students of mine who want to join her tutoring lessons," Dr. Longbottom says. She starts off down the hall. "Have a good weekend, Commander."

"Yes, you as well," Spock says, and goes back to his office. T'Pring is still there.

"Do you have any idea what you have done?" he nearly shouts.

"Do you honestly care so much for that feeble human girl? You do realize that she will never be accepted among our people, do you not?"

"You know nothing!"

"Spock, do you not see how confused she has made you? Raising your voice at me, acting so desperately to make something work that defies logic. You are the only human Vulcan hybrid in our entire existence. There is a reason for this! You are wasting your time and hers. Let her go. Your relationship with her will never be satisfactory. She will _never_ be able to bear you children," T'Pring sneers.

Spock can only think of one reason why she is here, acting so aggressively. "It is your Pon Farr season. It must be. And Stonn is _denying_ you," Spock whispers as it all comes together. Vulcans were known to act irrationally when they began their blood fever, even die if they received no release from their savage sexual urges.

"Of course my husband is not denying me!" T'Pring shouts, standing up from the corner of his desk where she was sitting.

"I am more than certain he is. Otherwise you would never have come. I should never have agreed to let you come. I told Nyota I was curious as to what you would say. How foolish I have been," Spock says sadly. He goes to his desk, gathering his belongings. "I will go after her. I do not care to see you ever again. This time it is I who can say that there is no love in my heart for you."

He walks past her, leaving her screaming his name from his office. He breaks into a run, his mind only on Nyota and if he can find her and explain before it is too late.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Spock grits his teeth to contain the anger he feels at himself. How could he risk everything that has built up with Nyota? How can he have behaved so foolishly? Has he ruined it all? Was all lost? He would not know until he found Nyota and explained. It does not surprise him that she has not answered her comm. He is determined to search until he finds her, his heart, so that he can apologize and hope to the gods that she will understand and accept his error. The kiss between himself and T'Pring was not even enjoyable—his chest had clenched in almost disgust. She was no longer even attractive to him. He finally saw her as she had been always—vile, manipulative, spoiled and selfish. He was blinded before by a false love. No more.

"Unforgivable," he mutters to himself as he drudges across campus in a fresh roll of fog and drizzle towards Nyota's dormitory. He pulls the jacket he wears up over his head, hopefully to avoid standing out too much. Starfleet Commanders normally did not wear hoods, nor did they normally go wandering about in the student housing quarters. He's lucky that not many are out in the unfavorable weather. It's still early evening, though, and he can only imagine the suspicions he would raise if he were recognized on this part of campus after class hours. He uses his all-clearance card to enter her building and goes straight for the turbo lift. He's broken a few rules to look up her room number, but it was for a good purpose. Even if she refuses to continue their relationship, he will apologize to her. He will do that, at least.

He reaches room 547 and knocks on the door, leaving his jacket hood on. Fat drops of rain water slide down the vinyl like fabric, collect in a pool by his feet. Some residents walk by. They pay him no mind. He looks left and right, then raises his hand to knock again when the door opens swiftly. Her eyes widen in surprise. "What are you doing here?" she asks. Her eyes are puffy and red. Her tears are because of him.

"You know why I have come," Spock says, stepping hurriedly inside.

"My roommate could come back here any moment. You shouldn't be here," Nyota says, closing the door behind him.

Spock pushes his hood back. "Then return back to my apartment with me," he pleads.

"No." Nyota rolls her eyes, sniffing. "Spock. I can't do this. I had a feeling something like this would happen, and then she's this stunning woman who you were in love with and engaged to…I just can't…"

"Her physical appearance is deceiving. She came with the intent to seduce me and to ruin my relationship with you. Do not let her succeed. Please, let us speak privately in a place where we will not be interrupted."

She starts to cry. "It's not gonna work, okay? I'm sorry. It's not even your fault, because I shouldn't even have gone to your office. I just wanted to see…what she looked like, I guess. I don't know—"

"I did not kiss her in return. I know how it must have looked to you, but I have been honest about all else. I would not lie about this," he says urgently. Spock steps closer to Nyota, tilting her chin gently in his hand, kissing her. She turns her face, hiccups. "It doesn't matter. It _won't_ work," she repeats.

"It _will_ work. It already has worked between you and I," he whispers. "I would not be here otherwise." He tightens his arms around her, kissing her again, which she allows, a little.

"You still love her," Nyota says, looking up at him. "Don't you?"

"Is that your fear? That my heart can be shared between two women?"

She shrugs, looking forlorn. "I don't know. I guess so."

He studies her face, her pouty lips, her eyes rimmed red with old tears. How he loves this woman. He knows what he should do, _must_ do. "Nyota, there is a way for me to show you exactly what I feel…but I would need your permission."

She looks at him, her brows furrowed. "Why do you need my permission?"

"I can perform a partial mind meld. You may feel some discomfort once it ends, but nothing permanent or long lasting. The meld would give us access to each others thoughts—every secret, every wish, every prayer. It is common practice among Vulcans," he tells her.

"I'm not Vulcan," Nyota says. Even without his senses dulled, he feels how badly she wants the truth. She needs to know she is the only one, and he can show her.

"But you are in love with one, are you not? Or...has that changed?" he whispers.

"I—I'm afraid. I don't want to get hurt," she whispers in return.

"_Aitlu nash veh? Nahp du a'itluah?_" (Are you still belonging to this one? Is your heart still mine?)

She smiles slowly, shaking her head. "What are you saying? Are you asking if I'm still yours?"

He nods.

Her eyes search his for several moments. His hands make small circles against her back, waiting. She swallows before she nods in return. "Yes. Of course I am. I'm still in love with you," she tells him. She leans up, pressing her mouth against his before retreating slightly. "Show me the meld," she whispers. "I give you permission. Show me."

He places his hands in the psi points along her face, and their minds crack open then together, like a chemical reaction.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

He is not ashamed of anything she sees during the meld—not the times he masturbated while thinking of her, nor the times he stared longingly after her when spotting her on campus, not even the jealousy he felt when she talked about the times she spent with Cadet Gilesboro. Spock shows all. He wants her to know all. He feels her timidity when he first delves into her thoughts, but he reassures her through the meld that she should not feel embarrassed about anything. He is delighted to see that she, too, wanted to be nearer to him, though she hid it so well. She too thought of him always, even while being intimate with her then boyfriend, and once, she had wept in frustration that her feelings for him were all in vain.

As the meld ends, they realize they are in a different place in their relationship. They both trust each other completely. T'Pring has not destroyed them. In fact, she may have played a role in bringing Spock even closer to Nyota. She nods, smiling in her understanding of it all. _Yes_, he can almost see Nyota thinking. _I see now_.

"Thank you," Nyota whispers, leaning forward to kiss him. They keep their heads pressed together, hands grasped tightly. In love. Complete.

"Are you experiencing any pain?" he asks her. She shakes her head. "I feel fine. I feel like the luckiest girl in the universe," she replies.

He does not want to leave her side, but logically, he must. He is in his student's dormitory, and moments away from begging her to let him stay the night. "I should go. You said your roommate was due soon," he murmurs.

"Okay," she sighs, but doesn't let go.

He hesitates slightly. "Would you care to join me? We could have dinner. I believe it is a customary tradition for a male courting a female on Terran Friday evenings."

Her face lights up. "Yes! I would love to! But…I'd want to change. Maybe I could meet you in about an hour at your place?"

He thinks that is too long, but he nods and agrees. "I will be waiting for you," he says.

* * *

"You look beautiful," Spock tells Nyota as she enters his apartment. The door slides closed behind her. She smiles gently, clasping her hands in front of her. "Thank you," she says. She wears a green dress, one that hugs her body in an aesthetically pleasing way, with flat strappy sandals on her feet. Her hair curls softly over her shoulders. She smells lightly of flowers, not her usual amber scent, but a welcome aroma nevertheless. He goes to her, taking her hands, kissing them.

"Come," he says, and leads her into his kitchen, where their food is already on the table—pad thai for them both, but added chicken to hers.

"Oh!" she exclaims, grinning. "I _love_ Thai! Did you cook this yourself?"

Spock nods, proud. "I finished it shortly before you arrived. Cooking is actually an area where most Vulcan males exceed standards."

"I am so impressed. I can't wait to eat it!" she squeals in delight, and they begin to do just that. The conversation is so natural as they do, so easy, as always with her, and though Spock remains respectful, he wants nothing more than to grab her from her seat and throw her down on his bed. His sexuality for her is intoxicating, almost like a living thing. It has been so long, and until the day he realized he was in love with Nyota, didn't mind the wait. Now, however, he finds himself longing to complete their union. But he will not pressure her. _She_ must make the first move. _She_ must choose _him_, fully. Loving him is not enough. She must choose the consummation. Only then can he truly release the full gamut of what is locked within his cage of repressed emotions.

"I meant to tell you, I got an email the other day from the Board. They want me to fly out to Hawaii over the summer and make an official proposal for _Star_. I'd like for the whole team to come along. Lucas and Emiline won't be able to attend, and Lynn and Hezekiah aren't sure yet, but I was hoping you could come with me, at least," Nyota says.

"What is the date?"

"They want to meet with me June 22nd. Well, us. Whoever can attend from our research group."

"A prodigious accomplishment before starting your final year at Starfleet," Spock says. "Of course I will be there to witness you make your proposal to the Board."

"You'd be there too, though," Nyota says, blushing. "You were the first one to make the suggestions on using different materials to make _Star_ small enough to fit inside a console. That changed the entire direction of the project."

"Yet the prototype was strictly yours. It even bears your name," he tells her. He places his hand over hers from his seat across the table. "You make me very proud, Nyota."

She presses her fingers into his, looking down bashfully. "My parents will be there. Maybe...maybe you could meet them."

"You wish for me to meet your elders?" Spock asks quietly.

She pulls her hand away, flustered. "I mean, I know it hasn't been that long. You don't have to, I just thought—"

"I would be honored," he says. He takes her hand back. "I would be greatly honored. I will tell them how taken I am with their daughter, how she is the one who has created in me an entire new world...a world I thought impossible until the afternoon she walked into my office seeking language courses."

"You…" Nyota murmurs, smiling as she shakes her head. "I love you."

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual," Spock says.

Nyota bites her lower lip, her face suddenly serious. "Come here," she whispers, standing up. Spock has closed the space between them in an instant, his mouth on hers with the next breath they take. She moans, almost in relief, and throws her arms around him as he bends slightly to gather her up. He lifts her slightly off the floor, and Nyota responds without hesitation by wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. Their kissing becomes frantic, with Nyota gripping his hair so hard that it might have hurt him had he been fully human. Spock groans into her mouth, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her bottom. Her underwear is moments from being reduced to ribbons, if she knows it or not.

"I can't…I can't _do_ it anymore, I can't _wait_," she pants between the collision of their mouths. "Don't care…if it's wrong…I just don't care!"

"You and I could never be wrong," Spock whispers in her ear before biting it.

He carries her, still wrapped around him, to his bed, where they tumble down together. He shoves the soft material of her dress up as she's unzipping his pants. Their hands are a flurry of movement as they each work to release the body parts necessary for what has been mutually accepted as inevitable. When Nyota finally grasps his erection, she whimpers. "My God…" she breathes, then scoots her bottom down over as much as she can, sucking in her breath as she does. Spock is the one to moan now, and grabbing her hips, he jerks her down over his cock, all the way, as deep as he can go. She cries out, but does not push him away. No, her arms tug at him, pulling him against her, and her back arches against his chest. He doesn't want to hurt her, but he wants to tear her apart, devour her.

Their sexual chemistry is perfect, as he calculated it might be. He sinks into her body as if he has loved her a thousand times before. He thrusts into her harder, twisting her hair between his fingers, tugging her head back to force her breasts closer to him. He must own her, must have her, forever. None can come after him. It would destroy him.

"Take me…take all of me," she pants as their bodies clap together and apart, together and apart. "I love you….so much…"

Spock tightens his hold around her waist with one arm, reaching for her face as he knows the first wave of pleasure is about to take over. "Will you stay with me? Always?" he asks the soft skin of her throat, licking her, biting her. She catches his face with her hands, kissing him as she breathes, "_Always." _

With a grunt, he releases deep inside of her womb. He can feel her contract around the thickness of his member, stuffed thickly inside of her. He is not disappointed this first time did not last longer—he is Vulcan. Their night together is just beginning. He prays she will make adjustments to accommodate his need. He has been without a mate, without intercourse nearly five years. There is much making up to do with the one he so cherishes.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

One day near the end of the semester, Spock is surprised to find himself summoned to a meeting with his immediate supervisor, Dr. Abram Sheeva.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Sheeva," Spock says as he enters his supervisor's office at the designated time. There is another woman in the room, someone he has seen here and there over the years but never really made formal introductions with.

"Commander Spock," Dr. Sheeva says, standing as he motions towards the woman. "This is Gail Webster. She's from the, er, human resources department."

Spock can guess why she has come and he's grateful for his ability to conceal any sign of panic. He nods at the petite brunette woman. Mid-forties. Pale eyes and a thin mouth. No makeup. She's all business.

"How are you today, Commander?" Ms. Webster says. She holds her hand out towards the chair next to her. "Please, sit."

Spock obeys, waits.

She clears her throat and throws a tight smile around the room. "Well, this is the sort of thing you just jump right into," she says. "There have been some allegations of indecent involvement with one of your subordinates, a Cadet Nyota Uhura. I believe she is currently your teaching aide, correct?"

Spock blinks, unmoving. "She is." He quickly tries to calculate if he and Nyota have engaged in any activity on Starfleet grounds that would warrant suspension—he can think of none. They have only kissed in his apartment, they have never held hands or embraced anywhere near his office or Starfleet grounds, from what he can recall. He would not have been so stupid. Would he? When it came to her, it was difficult to be rational.

"Listen, you both have outstanding records and I'm not saying either of you've done anything wrong. To be frank, I hate to even approach you like this, but it's just that anytime someone comes to us with information about the possible involvement of an instructor on staff and a student, we have to investigate."

"Someone? Who has accused me of wrongdoing?" Spock asks. His chances of coming away from this meeting unscathed increase significantly. Hard evidence—photos or video footage, would have been more difficult to deny or talk around. But someone coming forward to accuse him of breaking code, well, that could easily boil down to his word against theirs, whoever 'theirs' might be. He straightens in his seat.

Ms. Webster glances at her PADD. "I'm not allowed to give names, but I can tell you it was another cadet. A male who may or may not have been involved with Cadet Uhura at some point during the year. His statement accused you and Cadet Uhura of, you know, seeing each other. He claims to have followed her a few nights ago and reported that she was seen entering an apartment building where he believes you reside. It says in his statement that he...well...that he camped outside the residence and waited for her to emerge, which wasn't until the next morning. Again, this is what he reported. He...let's see here...goes on to say that you two are sneaking off together around campus, that sort of thing. The statement sounded very…resentful in nature. His accusations may be his way of trying to get back at her. She's perfectly within her rights to file a complaint, in fact, due to him following her. However, that's another issue. I'm here to make sure you understand that any kind of intimate relationship with a student is strictly forbidden according to Starfleet regulation. Grounds for dismissal."

Spock nods. "Of course I understand the regulations. I studied them thoroughly when I was made Commander."

"Good, good. Like I said, I'm not accusing you. I believe you know better and you're an integral addition to the school. We've checked the surveillance feeds and nothing's come up at all. As far as your apartment, of course we're not allowed to invade your private space or time, but just be aware that someone is keeping a close eye on you two. Should this individual come to us with any hard evidence, we'd have to take additional measures. I'd hate to see that happen, especially over some, you know, fling you may or may not be having with a young girl."

Fling. Spock's nostrils flare at the notion that Nyota is just a plaything to him, but he knows he cannot reveal his offense. It would give everything away. So instead, Spock says in all honest, "This was not common knowledge, but there was a time when I was engaged. She terminated our relationship, and it has been very difficult for me to trust females since. I would never consent to a causal affair with Cadet Uhura, or any other student for that matter. I do not engage in any relationship lightly. It is not the Vulcan way."

Ms. Webster and Dr. Sheeva give him a sympathetic look. "I am sorry to hear about your broken engagement, Commander," Ms. Webster said, clucking her teeth in consideration. "I truly am. I'm sure you will find a satisfactory relationship again when the time is right."

"Of course I am hopeful. When the time is right," Spock echoes.

She stands, brushing her hands off on her neatly pressed pants. "That will be all. I know Cadet Uhura's your aide and of course working hours occasionally overlap into personal life. And I know, also about her invention, the machine to pick up subspace signals. Very impressive. As I said, just be aware of the time you spend with her, with any cadet, for that matter. When accusations are made—"

"These matters must be investigated thoroughly. I understand," Spock interrupts.

Ms. Webster puts a bright smile on her face, nods. Spock and Dr. Sheeva stand to see her out.

"You have a wonderful rest of your day," she says.

"You as well."

He has covered for her, for himself, for them. Its significance is alarming to him in the sense that he almost doesn't believe what just occurred. Under normal circumstances, he would have immediately confessed and turned in his letter of resignation. But his only thought was to protect Nyota. He didn't even care if he was released from his position, but for Cadet Gilesboro to try and ruin her reputation, well, that was unacceptable. He would not let that happen. He would never let anyone hurt her if he had anything at all to do with it.

* * *

"I cannot _believe_ he **stalked** me and then tried to report you! Us!" Nyota fumes later that night in his apartment. She is up, pacing back and forth, her fists clenched into tight balls. "I could fucking kill him!"

"I was not given an actual name. It could have been another cadet," Spock says.

"No, don't! I _know_ it was that asshole! He was coming down the hall when I was leaving on my way to see you last week. He wanted to work things out and he started asking me all these questions about where I was going. I blew him off. I had no idea he would stoop so low as to follow me! I know that's _exactly_ what he did, that bastard fuck!" she screeches in anger.

"Perhaps I should have said nothing to you," Spock says, going to her and leading her to the couch. He wants to calm her.

"I'm glad you did! I'll never speak to him again! I'm sorry for getting this upset, but he had no right. He's the one who ruined everything, not that it would have mattered because I was in love with you, but still. It's just a dirt bag move."

Spock kisses her neck, brushes her hair back over her shoulder. "Between your stellar academic record and my standing with the academy, I doubt either of them were willing to believe we are capable of any wrongdoing," he reassures her. "Still, it would befit us both to be mindful of our affections for a while."

She looks at him, her eyes suddenly bright with tears. "So stop seeing each other? I guess that makes the most sense, though I _hate_ that Philip is able to do this and get away with it!"

"I did not say cease our interactions," Spock tells her. He puts a hand on her leg. "I said be mindful of our affections."

"But I feel like everyone's going to be watching us now, trying to find something—"

"People have been watching us for quite some time, in case you have not noticed. We have given none a reason to suspect that we are lovers."

Nyota takes a deep breath before collapsing against his chest. "You're right," she murmurs. "I would have felt awful if you had gotten in trouble over seeing me."

"Even had it been so, you are worth it to me," Spock tells her, kissing her forehead.

"Don't say that. You've worked too hard. We won't mess up. We won't. I'll just stop coming over during the week. When I'm in your office, I'll try not to even look at you. I don't want to have to hide and sneak around for another year, but I'd rather do it than destroy our careers," Nyota sighs unhappily.

"Once you become Lieutenant, we could register with the federation as a couple. They would try to place us on the same star ship."

Nyota sits up, frowning. "But…registration…that's only for couples who are…who are engaged, I thought. Or married."

He looks into her eyes. "Then at that time, we should become engaged. Or married."

She gasps, though a smile breaks across her pretty face. "You're serious? Spock, are you sure? How do you know you'll still want me?"

"Because I have told you how much I want you, always," Spock says. "And Vulcans do not lie."


End file.
